


Our Private Ball

by Oricalle



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Comfort, Companion Piece, Cuddling, F/F, Fluff, Gunnthra is helpful, Implied/Referenced Torture, Laegjarn's still scarred from Surtr, Massage, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Slow Dancing, just pure fluff, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 02:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20038477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oricalle/pseuds/Oricalle
Summary: After Laegjarn's first formal event at Castle Askr doesn't go the way she planned, moonlight must make the mundane into magical.Or maybe that's just Gunnthra.





	Our Private Ball

**Author's Note:**

> While I was writing the new chapter of "Worth Of A Broken Blade", I noticed two things.
> 
> 1\. Working with heavier subject matter can get very draining if you don't take a break to write something nice and cheerful.  
2\. I think Laegjarn and Gunnthra make for an absolutely adorable couple.
> 
> The combination of those two discoveries is this! This is sort of a companion piece to that story, but it requires no knowledge of the events of that one and honestly it's about as canon as you want it to be.

Castle Askr rarely held formal celebrations. Impromptu feasts and parties would sometimes bubble up from the joy of a job well done, but actual events with schedules, dress codes, and all the required frills were extremely infrequent. Still, this was one of those rare days, and Laegjarn regretted having come in the first place as she settled onto a sofa in the spare room east of the ballroom. The castle had come to feel like home in the months since she had been summoned, but tonight everything felt foreign and dangerous.

She had come, in a dress borrowed from Minerva’s collection, with the intent of socializing with her fellow Heroes. However, during the celebration the gates had been opened to Askr’s nobility. It had taken Laegjarn a long time to feel comfortable around her new allies in the first place, but most of them had been welcoming. The gazes she got from the Askran strangers in the ballroom were different, tinged with disdain and loathing. They would stop talking when she got near, tensing up and stepping back like a bear was prowling through their midst. The message was clear, and she remembered what Helbindi had told her once.

“Lotsa people think we’re scum. Ol’ Surtr made it pretty damn clear what kinda reputation he wanted his Generals to have.” At this he had spat into the dirt, rubbing it away with his armored heel. “Murderous, cruel, stupid. Ain’t good for anything but smashing, stabbing, and burning. It ain't fair, but what is?"

Shame tinged Laegjarn’s cheeks with splotches of red. Minutes ago, she had broken through the fear and thought to change their perception. Her eyes landed on a thoroughly drunken man with a puffed out collar, and he didn’t flinch. Either unafraid of her or too intoxicated to remember that he was. Either way worked fine for Laegjarn.

“Just one conversation,” she thought to herself. “Then I’ll have done enough.”

“Good evening.” She smiled at Collar, doing her best to carry herself the way she’d seen Alfonse do it, with diplomacy rather than intimidation in mind. “I’m Princess Laegjarn, with the Order. How is your evening?”

The man looked at her through bloodshot eyes, gently swaying completely offbeat to the music. His lips parted to reveal a sneer.

“Oooh, Surtr's dog?”

“Pardon?” Laegjarn kept the smile on, but her heart sank.

The man took a lengthy swig from a nearby bottle of wine. “The royal brats have got you well trained then, not even chomping on the guests at their meals!” He began to laugh, spitting droplets of mixed drink and saliva across the front of Laegjarn’s borrowed dress. “Good little puppy, nice and broken in! Where’s your fancy muzzle?”

Were Laegjarn not a member of the Order, she would have punched him, letting her fist say everything her mouth wasn't in the mood to. But that would run the risk of making trouble for the Order, so she held back. As she walked away, she could hear him guffawing, still, and her stomach lurched. She didn’t belong here.

And so she found herself, tucked into an adjacent room, trying to scrape purple droplets off of a dark green gown. Now she’d have to apologize to Minerva for this. More words, more chances to fail, more ways to look like the idiot, or the outcast. She sighed, hanging her head slightly.

“Hey. Is everything alright?”

Her chin jerked up, and she saw Gunnthra entering from a small attached balcony. She looked entirely different, however, her hair neatly done up in a bun and her usual white robes replaced with a magenta ball gown. As Gunnthra slowly approached, Laegjarn scooted over on the couch to allow her room to sit.

“Did something happen to your dress?” Sitting down, Gunnthra leaned in close to examine the fabric, and Laegjarn could immediately feel her left side get a little colder in the ice princess’ presence.

“Just a spill, I think. Is there a way to fix it tonight? This isn’t mine.”

Gunnthra frowned. “I’m afraid that’s going to take some work, a few careful washes, but I think it’ll take a day or two.”

“Oh. Well, thanks anyway, I’ll figure it out.”

Pursing her lips, Gunnthra looked Laegjarn over, curiosity building in the back of her mind.

“Was this your first ball, Laegjarn?”

She nodded, folding her hands in her lap.

“It was.”

“And...are you having a good time?”

Laegjarn barely shook her head. “I don’t mean to complain. I’m sorry. I just guess I’m not the kind of person that should be at these things.” Gunnthra was silent for a few moments, and Laegjarn returned to idly picking at the stains until an arm rested itself on her shoulder. Her whole upper body tensed, only slowly relaxing when two hands began lightly massaging her shoulders.  
“Gunnthra?”

The princess beamed as she worked her hands into Laegjarn’s flesh. “You look stressed. Did something happen?”

“Just a rude guest. Nothing to be concerned about.”

She was telling the truth, she thought. She had lived through too much to let the booze-fueled cruelty of a random stranger get to her. When that stranger was reinforcing a truth she hadn’t realized existed, though…

“What did they say?” Gunnthra leaned in closer, tilting her head. Her fingertips continued their soothing march, pushing deep into Laegjarn’s stress and letting it fall down her body. She fought the urge to close her eyes.

“Really, don’t worry about it. Please.”

Though she looked troubled, Gunnthra backed off, now focused on the massage. Laegjarn tilted her head back, nearly flinching as the back of her neck came into contact with Gunnthra’s fingertips. They were cold.

The massage suddenly stopped as the band inside the ballroom began to play once more, and Gunnthra leapt to her feet. The moonlight streaming in from the balcony was behind her, and she looked like an angel. Or, at least what Laegjarn thought an angel might look like, even accompanied by the slow melody of string instruments floating in from afar.

“I adore this song!” she squeaked, extending a hand towards the couch. The moonlight made her light blue nail polish gleam. “Want to dance with me?”

Laegjarn flushed, looking incredulously at the offered hand.

“I don’t know how.”

Gunnthra smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh, I’ll lead, don’t worry! Please, just this one song. For me?”

Those last two words rang in Laegjarn’s ears. Gunnthra was one of her earliest friends at the Order. She had always been so kind, helpful, and generous. After all Gunnthra had given Laegjarn, she decided it was only proper to return the favor.

Slowly, she stood, using Gunnthra’s hand for leverage and eliciting a cheerful giggle from the other woman. She held up a finger.

“One dance. For you.”

She barely had time to prepare before Gunnthra pulled her close, surprisingly close. She could feel the cool breeze of the shorter woman’s breath on her chest, a light tingling that spread across her abdomen. Gunnthra lightly guided Laegjarn’s arms to the proper positions, as Laegjarn fought back a blush from having her right hand invited to rest on Gunnthra’s back. Her left hand was placed in Gunnthra’s right, and the Princess of Nifl closed the gap between them, letting their sides lightly touch. She grinned up with sparkling eyes, and Laegjarn returned a small smile, not wanting the sight of those beautiful eyes to leave her. Still, they did, as Gunnthra began to slowly sway them around, humming lightly in tune to the music that continued to surround them. Laegjarn did her best to follow suit, staring down at the ground as she discovered an issue. She almost didn’t bring it up, not wanting to have to let go of Gunnthra’s hand, but fear for safety outweighed her (quickly growing) crush.

“Oh, no, I don’t think my shoes got the dress code.”

Gunnthra broke from her reverie a moment to glance down as well, bursting into a muffled laugh as she continued to slowly spin. Opposite Gunnthra’s stunning sapphire heels were Laegjarn’s pair of slate grey leather boots, the same she wore into the wyvern stables and on the battlefield. She didn’t own any formal footwear, and she had just barely managed to get a dress on time. Silently, she cursed herself for not having better foresight.

“You’re just fine, Laegjarn.”

“I don’t want to step on you.”

Gunnthra shrugged. “Oh, I’ve had worse. I taught each of my siblings to do this, you know! If getting stepped on was enough to scare me off, Hrid alone would have been enough for me to hang up my shoes for good!”

“Are you sure?”

In response, Gunnthra leaned in, letting her head nestle gently against Laegjarn’s shoulder. She dug her nose in, letting the warm scent of her friend calm her. “Just relax. You’re doing great.”

Laegjarn nodded, determined to follow the instruction. Letting memory and music guide her, she kept pace with Gunnthra’s movements, the sight of the princess’s rose-colored hair spilling down Laegjarn’s arm enough to make her heart flutter a bit in her chest. Gradually, all the sound of conversation fell away, leaving them both in a world where the only things that existed were the music and eachother’s bodies. Laegjarn let the cool feeling of Gunnthra’s skin travel up her arms and soothe her, while Gunnthra allowed Laegjarn’s warmth to make a home in her chest, propelling her to keep moving, making her feel like she never had to leave.

Gunnthra pushed her fingers a little deeper into Laegjarn’s back, sliding them lightly down. Suddenly, Laegjarn jolted upright, pushing a pained hiss through her teeth. Gunnthra tore her head away from the shoulder, looking wide-eyed at her dance partner.

“Oh my! Are you alright?”

“Yeah…” Laegjarn sounded more embarrassed than hurt, thankfully. “You just landed on an old burn scar.”

Gunnthra nodded, a frown plastered on her face. “I apologize! I’ll move them!”

Gingerly, she slid her fingers to another section of Laegjarn’s back, but Laegjarn shook her head.

“There’s one there too.”

She tried again.

“One there.”

And again.

“Another. I’m sorry, they’re…” She breathed in slowly, her eyes somewhere else. “All over.”

The meaning of the confession took a moment to sink in, but when it did, it hit Gunnthra like a boulder to the gut. Surtr. It had to be Surtr’s doing. She yearned to go back in time and wring the monster’s neck before he could ever lay his hands on his poor daughter’s skin. Her vision landed on Laegjarn’s face, a sheepish smile making the indomitable general look uncommonly fragile.

“I am so sorry. I’ll take my hands off now.”

“Please don’t.”

Gunnthra’s stomach did a flip. Had she heard her right? Laegjarn was standing as still as if she’d been frozen. Moonbeams illuminated only the bottom half of her face, highlighting the way she bit her lip when she was nervous. Gunnthra suddenly realized she knew that, of all things. She left her hands on Laegjarn’s back, being sure not to press down with any real force. Laegjarn drew in close again and wordlessly started swaying once more, her face fading back into shadow as the motions brought her away from the window. Laegjarn was stroking Gunnthra’s hair now, parting it like a velvet curtain, deliberate but gentle. The attention flustered Gunnthra a tad, but she held together, leaning in to rest her cheek on Laegjarn’s forearm. Channeling a few sparks of ice magic into her fingertips, Gunnthra lightly grazed the spot she had found the first burn scar. As much as she hated it, there was no way to prevent the injury, but if she could soothe it, even a little, it was worth it.

Laegjarn’s breath hitched as a pleasantly cold sensation landed between her shoulder blades. Looking down, she tried to read Gunnthra’s face, but found it wedged snugly in the cloth of the green dress. Instead, she simply sighed with relief as Gunnthra worked her magic, closing her eyes and letting the simple, repetitive motion hypnotize her.

She didn’t know how long it had been when she finally noticed something amiss.

“Gunnthra?”

“Mmhmm?” She hadn’t moved her head yet.

“The music isn’t even playing anymore.”

“Mmmh.” Pulling her head back, Gunnthra aimed a grin at her dance partner. “I guess it’s not, is it? We must have gotten a little carried away.”

“I suppose we did.” The smile that was etched on her face didn’t want to fade, so she just didn’t let it. Still entwined, she guided Gunnthra back towards the sofa, dropping them both down on the center cushion, right in front of the balcony window. As the pair settled back down, Laegjarn gazed out at the full moon hanging on the horizon.

Her heart was soaring. She wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but the night had somehow gone from a painful disaster to having the most beautiful woman she knew nestled in her arms, all alone, with only the calming moonlight to serve as company.

She made a silent wish that a moment like this could last forever.

Little did she know, Gunnthra was wishing the same.

“So.” Gunnthra spoke up, after a few seconds of silence. “How’s your first ball been now?”

Laegjarn chuckled. “So much better. Thank you. You can go back to the ball now, if you’d like. I’ll be alright here.”

Thinking of Laegjarn’s earlier request to keep her hands on her, Gunnthra decided to go for something bold.

“I don’t know why I would. We’ve got a much better party in here, don’t we?” 

Laegjarn was speechless, even more so when Gunnthra’s head landed on her shoulder and an arm creeped around her back, drawing her in for a cuddle. The words wouldn’t form, and for now, Laegjarn realized, that was alright. She followed suit, curling one of her own arms around Gunnthra’s torso and letting herself lean into the smaller woman’s form. Something about the way she felt reminded Laegjarn of the cool side of a pillow, and it was every bit as refreshing.

For a few minutes, they laid there, Laegjarn’s next sentence wreaking havoc in her head as she tried to piece ideas together. There had to be a way to tell her how she felt that was elegant, but not over-the-top. Caring, but not smothering. Understandable, but not blunt.

Swinging a sword was a thousand times easier than this.

Finally, it came together, and Laegjarn spoke with a trembling voice, keeping her eyes locked on the moon.

“Gunnthra, I really enjoyed this. I was wondering if you would like to do it again sometime? Maybe on a date?”

She steeled herself for rejection, but it never came. Neither did acceptance. Instead, Gunnthra responded by snoring lightly, having fallen asleep about a minute ago.

Laegjarn couldn’t help but giggle. In a way, it was a blessing that she’d get to ask tomorrow. She could stay in their private world just a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading!
> 
> I would be extremely pleased if you'd leave feedback, I'm always glad to talk about writing and stories. I hope you have a lovely day.


End file.
